One of Two Ways

By: Tidia and Ridley C. James

Disclaimed and all that. All mistakes are owned by me.

Notes: A little story with a lot of input, plus we got to use this awesome title. Thank you for Ridley for making this a vastly improved story- she poured a story into this tale.

The last person Dean thought would come to his garage in New Haven, Kentucky was Adam. The tall man was rarely seen these days, keeping mostly to the coven. Dean stopped working on the Mitsubishi, wiping his hands on the coveralls. "Is Josh okay?" he asked as he tried to remember if Sawyer was working a gig.

"He doesn't know I'm here." Adam glanced around the garage, appearing unimpressed. "We've had a threat from Cressida and her coven."

Dean leaned against the car he had just been working on; relieved his Triad's Advisor was fine, but thrown by the lack of segue. Adam did not mince words. "Oh. Witches duel?"

Adam did not look amused. Dean recalled he lacked on a sense of humor as well. "We'll handle it."

"The Brotherhood will help. We're on your side." Josh was part of that coven, and they owed a duty to them. All debts with Cressida's coven had been paid because they had saved her from making a mistake with the Trinity. Dean had no concern for her or her coven.

"That's why I'm here." Adam leaned towards him in the menacing way he had that used his size as a scare tactic. "Better tell your boy to breakup with his girlfriend."

Dean kept his stare unwavering, the attempt at intimidation pissing him off. "My boy?"

"Caleb Reaves."

"The Knight." Dean made it a point to use Caleb's Brotherhood title, hoping Adam might get the point and tread lightly, Joshua's friend or not.

"Fix it," Adam commanded, and there was no mistaking that it was an order. "I'll give you forty-eight hours before I tell Joshua."

"Are you actually threatening me?" The Guardian did not enjoy being schooled, ordered or provoked. He also did not care what Josh found out about, because Advisor or not, Dean sure as hell did not need to explain himself. "Do you know who you are talking to?"

"Dean Winchester, hunter." Adam snorted with disgust. Besides lacking any and all social skills, Adam had also never hidden his distaste for The Brotherhood. "Clean up your house."

Dean was left glaring at Adam's back as the witch made a swift retreat from the garage. Having missed his chance to deck the pompous ass, Dean threw the wrench he was holding, the sound of it smashing to the wall before clanking across the floor not half as satisfying as it would have been if it had hit Adam's skull..

((()))

Normally, Dean would not interfere on a hunt because being distracted could be detrimental to all involved, but then again Adam did not usually visit Dean.

He knew Caleb and Riley were finishing a case in Missouri with the plan being that Caleb would visit Dean after the hunt was completed, but Dean didn't feel this was something he could let stew. He informed Juliet he would be back as soon as he could, along with telling her to take it easy, ask for help if need be, especially in her pregnant state.

The drive to Missouri had him thinking about their dinner at Mac's a little less than two months ago, and the fact the lines had gotten blurred. Since when did sex have anything to do with The Brotherhood? Dean knew for sure that Pastor Jim never had to deal with a similar situation. Of course John Winchester had been a very different Knight than his successor.

Dean found the Holiday Inn Express easily enough, texted Caleb that he happened to find himself in Carthage. He expected the immediate phone call back.

"Are you okay? Did something happen? Is it Sam or the baby? I didn't sense anything-"

"I'm fine. There's just some Brotherhood business we need to talk about." Dean had to have this conversation face to face. He was not about to give anything away.

"This couldn't wait?"

"No, not really, and I wanted to do it in person." A part of him wanted to prepare for the fallout. Joshua would find out, whether from Caleb, Dean or Adam.

"Am I still The Knight?"

Dean frowned that Caleb ever thought his position was threatened. There were times he did not understand his best friend's psyche. "Yes, Damien."

"Good. Then anything else will seem like nothing. Let me tell Riley that I am heading out and I'll meet you at Mother Road Coffee Shop."

"See you there." He had passed the diner on his way into town, noted it because of its appeal and sign advertising pie and donuts.

He parked the Impala, and decided to wait inside for Caleb. He ordered coffee for both of them and two pieces of pie. He hoped it would be a peace offering.

Dean was waiting for Caleb when he climbed out of the old Chevy truck his best friend still drove on hunts where his 'Bat-mobile' would draw too much attention. Caleb entered as the pie arrived at the table.

"Cherry pie. Awesome." Caleb slid into the booth.

Dean studied his friend. There were no apparent injuries. "Any issues with the poltergeist?"

"You know Riley." He took a bite of the pie. "He wanted to make it complicated, but I reined him in. We found the grave and will salt and burn tonight."

Riley had a reputation of making a short hunt lengthy. He was still overzealous, and extremely into background research, sometimes even assisting The Scholar on lengthy projects.

Dean had not touched his apple pie instead nursing his coffee, which fueled his sour stomach. "I had a visit from Adam-"

Caleb stopped eating. "Josh okay?"

"He's fine," Dean answered, smirking at his friend's first thoughts. "Seems like Cressida is causing them trouble. Would you know anything about that?"

The pie was pushed away, and Dean didn't have to be a psychic to know blocks were quickly going up. "No. Why would I?"

Dean thought about not pressing forward. He closed his eyes, imaging how this could go one of two ways, but he had made a commitment to the coven, and he needed the truth. "Because Adam says she's your new gf."

Caleb sharply exhaled. "I am allowed a personal life."

Dean was not happy with the lack of a direct answer. He would play along, but felt his anger racket up a notch. "Not when it involves The Brotherhood."

Caleb had shifted, leaned into Dean's space across the table. "And how does Cressida involve The Brotherhood?"

Dean defended his space, moved in. "She's screwing The Knight, unfortunately that puts her somewhat in the loop."

Caleb grinned, relaxing back into the cushioned booth. It's green vinyl casting a sickly pallor over Reaves's skin. "The Knight is screwing lots of women, they on The Guardian's radar, too?"

"I'm talking about Joshua's coven; you know I'm committed to their protection. So considering this new threat, you're basically sleeping with the enemy, Damien."

Caleb shook his head, slipped out of the booth without another word. Dean got up; fished in his pocket for some cash, leaving a twenty on the table to cover the pie and coffee, then followed the Knight out the door.

He had seen that Caleb had gone to his truck, leaning against the gate that looked out to the wooded area to the side of the restaurant.

"Some people still think I'm the enemy." Caleb did not face Dean, his attention on the distance.

Dean was so sick and tired of the one note that his friend kept singing. The frustration came through in the heat of his voice. "So you think sleeping with a woman in charge of an evil faction is the way to change their perspective, or is it because a part of you, after all these years, still buys into that bullshit?"

"Don't be so damn dramatic." Caleb directed his attention and ire at Dean instead of the trees. "She's a fuck buddy. That's it. It's never been an issue before."

"I'm agreeing with Mac." Dean reached out and grabbed The Knight's arm. "What's wrong with you?"

Caleb pulled away. "Damn. Is this still about that stupid dinner, the model I brought? It was a joke. I was pushing Mac's buttons."

"No." Although honestly, Dean wasn't sure this wasn't partly a continuation of that awkward subject. He wasn't going to mention the fact his best friend should be way beyond powerplays with his father. Dean wasn't quite sure if his old man was still around that he might not be guilty of the same damn thing. "This is about you making us look bad."

"Excuse me?" Caleb stood straight, every muscle rigid and on defense. "The last time I checked I've been busting my ass for The Brotherhood, picking up slack so the other two-thirds of my Triad can have lives playing house and masquerading as Joe College." He made a move for the woods. "I'm taking a fucking walk. Don't be here when I get back."

"For someone who pushed so fucking hard for me and Sam to have normal all the damn time, you sure are resenting the hell out of it now." Dean pursued, not willing to be walked out on twice without getting some vindication. Caleb stopped, whirled to face him. The look of fury on The Knight's face fueled the fire and Dean continued on, "Is this whole slumming with Cressida thing part of your brooding, because your plan to live vicariously through us isn't working out so well for you?"

The punch was a surprise, but the pain was actually welcomed. It gave Dean a reason to hit back, and he'd been aching for a fight since Adam pissed on his lawn. Hell, maybe he'd been aching for one for a few months before that, considering tensions at home and at work were running high. Dean had begun to doubt himself, unable to voice the fears and insecurities rearing their ugly head. But here, with Caleb, he felt ridiculously free to poke the proverbial tiger.

Caleb took the blow with only a slight stagger, shaking his head as if he'd seen this coming all along. "Maybe I'm not the one brooding about how his life has turned out, Deuce. Sitting out hunts and giving up all other women for your baby's momma isn't all it's cracked up to be?"

The second time Dean hit his best friend seemed to make more of an impact, and before he knew it they were rolling around on the ground, pounding the shit out of each other. In all the years they'd been friends, they'd rarely ended up in blows. Maybe it was the age difference, or maybe it was the fact Caleb had an endless supply of patience when it came to Dean, but whatever the Knight's reservations, they were gone now.

Dean supposed it was both a good thing and a bad thing they were fairly evenly matched. They knew each other's best moves by heart. Hell, most of their moves had been learned from the same instructor. Caleb and Dean both had studied at John Winchester's school of hard knocks most of their lives, and as a result blocking and evading prevailed over damaging contact. Still, the fight left them both panting on the pavement; gazing up at the sky nursing aching jaws and bloodied noses.

"You hit like a fucking girl." Caleb finally spoke.

"Said the guy who showed me how to throw my first punch." Dean remembered the day he actually made contact with the much bigger, teenage Caleb. He was nine, maybe ten. They were in Pastor Jim's barn under the watchful eye of Dean's father. The shock of catching his best friend with a lucky left hook almost had him in tears, until Caleb tagged him back, just hard enough to keep Dean from feeling guilty. He'd winked at Dean when his back was to John, encouraging him with a stupid grin and crossed eyes.

"Don't blame me for your piss poor form," Caleb's growl broke through Dean'sthoughts. .

"My poor form put you on your ass, Jerk." Dean wondered if Pastor Jim was shaking his head at Dean's lack of Guardian diplomacy skills. As far as he knew his predecessor had never struck John Winchester, proving he was as close to a saint as people came on earth.

"Said the guy who is also lying on the cold concrete."

"I'm taking a breather," Dean said, thankful they were hidden from the direct view of the coffee shop.

"So there's going to be a round two?"

"You afraid?" Dean hoped to hell it was dread and not enthusiasm he was picking up in Caleb's tone. As hot as Dean's temper had been, he'd burned through his emotions quickly. He felt drained and more defeated than he'd ever admit.

"No, I think that pie may make a return appearance." Caleb sat up, bringing his knees in with a grimace. "You just had to go for a few gut shots."

Dean pushed himself to sitting, running a hand over his busted lip. "Do you love her?"

"Hell no." Caleb rolled his eyes. "Do you even hear yourself, Deuce? All that extra estrogen floating around the farm has gone to your fucking head."

Dean took a deep breath as he squelched his immediate reaction to defend Juliet. This was about The Brotherhood and The Knight, and he knew how Caleb really felt about Juliet, about the baby she and Dean were expecting. "Then why keep sniffing around, man?"

"Who says I'm the one sniffing around her? Maybe she can't resist me? Who am I to deny any beautiful woman?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Caleb had no problem picking up women, as he proved at Mac's dinner. The problem was his best friend's interest in Cressida went far beyond any surface attraction. "She's hot, I get that, but she's Reagan Walsh's sloppy seconds, not to mention an evil, conniving, power hungry bitch. She doesn't deserve you, and just so we're clear, you deserve a whole hell of a lot better than her."

"Is this where you tell me I should find a nice girl and settle down, maybe someone who shares my love of art and appreciation for 1920's architecture?" Caleb picked up a rock and threw it towards the woods. "Maybe Juliet has one of her dog rescue friends in mind?"

"We both know I'd have better luck sticking with pounding your face than convincing you something like that's possible."

Caleb touched a small cut above his eye. "I like the third option where we just forget this whole stupid mess and find another place with pie, or better yet some beer and ice."

"I can't do that, damn it!" Maybe there was a time when Dean could have gotten away with blowing it off, but not now, not when he had too many people to answer to.

"What the hell do you want me to say, Deuce?"

"Tell me, you'll take care of this." Caleb would have to tell Josh, and face the repercussions with his stepbrother. "That I won't receive any more unexpected visits from Adam."

"I hate that prick, Adam. Who the hell does he think he is to petition The Guardian of The Brotherhood?" Caleb shoved himself to his knees. "If he wasn't like a cross between Dwayne Johnson and that wizard from Lord of the Rings, I'd go kick his ass for even trying to talk to you."

Dean snorted, following suit. His back popped as he made it to his feet and his ribs protested the upright position. "Considering you just failed miserably in kicking my ass, I'd reconsider that."

Caleb reached out to steady him, giving a cocky half smile. "Together we could probably get it finished. If Sammy joined in, it'd be a sure thing."

"But then we'd have Josh to answer to. He likes Adam."

"Fuck Josh."

"Says the guy who spends almost as much time at our Advisor's house these days as he does at the farm."

"Don't be jealous, Dude." Caleb dusted the dirt from his jeans, looking up at Dean. "I go to see Max. The kid worships me and we both know he needs appropriate male influence if he's ever going to amount to a decent hunter. Leave him to Josh and he might end up in the coven, hanging out with Adam."

"You may want to use that angle when you tell Josh about Cressida." Joshua was going to be pissed no matter how Caleb presented it, and Caleb would be the one to put it on the table. "That's all on you."

"Josh doesn't have a mean left hook. I'll be alright." Caleb ran his tongue over his split lip.

"Didn't you just say I hit like a girl?"

"I didn't mean it and that stuff I said about playing house..." Caleb shoved him, his smile not as forced now. "You know I'm happy as hell for you. Juliet is so out of your league, but I'm grateful she puts up with you for both our sakes."

"I don't know." Dean sighed, wondering if one day Juliet just might come to her senses. "Maybe you were right when you said I wasn't cut out for this whole father, Guardian, significant other thing."

"Dude, I never said that. It's all in your head." Caleb's face grew serious. "You're a great Guardian; you're going to be an even better dad. Unlike some of us, monogamy actually works for you, you poor bastard."

Dean groaned, but felt a sudden lightening of the heavy load he'd been carrying around for months. "Not everyone has the stamina or the testosterone to serial date models and kinky witches."

Caleb arched a brow. "Now who's coveting the green grass on the other side of the fence?"

"I didn't mean that. What I said about you living through me and Sam." Dean ran a hand over his face, noticed he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. He briefly wondered if he looked in the mirror would he see his father's hard face staring back at him.

"I've been accused of worse things, Deuce." Caleb slapped Dean on the back. "Like sleeping with the enemy, and making The Brotherhood look bad for instance."

"Those I meant, at least the part about sleeping with the enemy."

"I'll take care of it," Caleb vowed, meeting his gaze. "I'll talk to Cressida about the whole coven thing."

"You two actually talk?" Dean arched a brow, willing to trust his best friend to do what needed to be done.

"It's not our strength by a long shot, but she's actually smart, and she knows her art." Caleb grinned again. "Then there's this thing she does with her magic wand that is…"

"Don't ruin my appetite, Dude." Dean pointed to a bar across the street. "At least wait until after I get a few beers in me to talk about your sick sexcapades."

Caleb nodded, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "The first round's on you."

"You threw the first punch, you should buy."

"But you drew first blood. By John's sparring rules, the guy who draws blood has to pay."

"We weren't sparring."

"Of course we were." Caleb tossed an arm over Dean's shoulder to steer him towards the bar. "This is you and me we're talking about, Deuce. We never fight."

Dean grinned, his whole 'I'm the Guardian' defense falling flat under Caleb's simple admonition about a constant that would never change no matter how complicated their lives might become. In that moment, The Brotherhood aside, Dean couldn't help thinking things might have gone much worse. Having a beer with his best friend was the far better of the two outcomes, even if he was nursing a fat lip and the one footing the bill.

"First one's on me, Damien, but you're paying me back for the freaking pie."